Hot For Teacher
by ArtemisMS
Summary: AU Grad student and teaching assistant Byakuya is finding his life has very little meaning in it... until he meets a certain redheaded student. Renji x Byakuya
1. Chapter 1

Kuchiki Byakuya hated his job.

He was now in his ninth year of school—fifth year of postgraduate work. After this semester, he had only his comprehensive exams to face, then after that, a dissertation to write. In addition to all that, he taught classes five days a week, earning less than the janitors who came to empty the trash cans in his office suite.

As a student, he was both admired and hated. He wrecked the curve of every class he took and always used PowerPoint for his presentations. On the days he gave his presentations, he wore a suit—and nobody laughed. He had no friends. He never went to the end of the semester parties and never spoke to anyone who shared his office suite.

He was generally assumed to be arrogant.

His family had abandoned him for his career choice. He had never given a reason for why he refused to pursue a medical profession, to follow in the footsteps of his parents, his aunts, his cousins, his grandfather. He would have been considered the black sheep for sure, had his sister not stolen that title from him two years ago when she married her high school sweetheart—against their parents' wishes, of course. Byakuya had been the only one in their family to attend the wedding.

So what made him get up every morning at 7 am sharp, proceed quickly and efficiently through his morning routine so that he could arrive at school at promptly ten minutes to 8? He no longer knew. It certainly wasn't the 10,000 a year stipend he was given to teach introductory literature courses to snoring, insipid college freshmen. To be honest, it scarcely even qualified as a job. But he knew that if he stopped now—if he quit—if he stopped turning in flawless papers and receiving flawless student evaluation forms and giving absolutely flawless presentations before speechless, inwardly seething classmates—that something would happen. He wasn't entirely sure _what_ would happen, but he knew that he might not recover from it. No more than he could seem to recover from the painful stomach ulcer that kept him visiting and revisiting the campus infirmary on an almost weekly basis.

He hated his job. He really did.

Maybe that was the real reason he finally ended up being late one morning.

"Late" meant all the graduate student parking spaces were full, so he had to park in Lot 17, an entire block away from his building. He walked briskly, briefcase in hand, one hand absently smoothing invisible wrinkles from his suit. The building was cold, his little office suite empty, the other teaching assistants already in class. It was 8:05 when he opened his briefcase and pulled out his grade book and the stack of graded essays. It was 8:10 when he finally stepped into the classroom.

The hush died down immediately, a few quiet groans remaining as students reluctantly got out their books and slouched back into their chairs. Professor Kuchiki hadn't been late all semester. If he'd walked in five minutes later, he'd have walked in on an empty classroom for sure.

"I have your essays graded," he announced calmly, stacking the papers without looking up. "I will hand them back to you at the end of the hour."

This elicited a collective mutter, which he naturally ignored.

He bent to pick up another stack of papers, each freshly printed with fill in the blank questions. "Do not open your books yet. We are going to take a quiz on the reading."

The hour droned on, monotonous as usual. He had long since given up asking students to read aloud in class. They made Shakespeare sound like an idiot and couldn't figure out that some sentences in a poem continue on to the next line. He stopped asking questions, too, stopped trying to milk them into class discussion. They didn't read, and when they did, they didn't understand what they were reading. So he gave quizzes, lectured, then assigned homework. None of them ever spoke up during class or asked to see him afterward. He suspected they were afraid of him. Possibly, they hated him.

"Yo! Professor Kuchiki!"

Byakuya looked up in surprise at the student hurrying down the steps of the lecture hall and approaching his desk. He recognized him only because he was the type of student who was rather hard _not_ to recognize. He was tall, with bright red hair, usually kept tied tightly behind his head, a scarf haphazardly covering the tattoos on his forehead, vivid black marks that trailed all the way down his neck and presumably his shoulders. Byakuya had once lain in bed one night at the beginning of the semester, wondering just how far down those tattoos went. When he realized what he was doing, he turned around and tried to suffocate himself into his pillow.

"Yes?" he asked, not giving any indication that this was the first time a student had actually addressed him this semester.

The redhead grinned. "I dropped your class."

He found it difficult to contain his annoyance, wondering why a student would sit through the entire hour of class just to tell him he'd dropped. "I see," he said, bending again to collect the quizzes.

"Yeah," the younger man continued, shifting his backpack and scratching the tip of his nose, "I just thought you should know."

Byakuya felt his brow furrow, but he said nothing, only continuing to neatly stack the roll sheet on top of the quizzes and leftover essays.

"Anyway," the student continued, apparently unperturbed by his unresponsiveness, "I'm in a band, sort of a pop punk metal kinda thing. We're playing tonight at Cujo's. You should come."

This time Byakuya did look up. "What?"

The younger man chuckled, one eyebrow disappearing under his scarf. "I said I'm in a band. We're playing tonight. Cujo's. You should come."

The room suddenly felt hotter.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why, what?"

Byakuya averted his gaze, frowning down at the stack of quizzes. "Why should I come?" He'd never even heard of Cujo's. Was that a bar?

The redhead laughed. " 'Cause I'm inviting you, that's why." He shifted his backpack again before raising his arm in a two-fingered salute. "So, see ya tonight, right, Teach?"

Byakuya watched his student—_former_ student—saunter off, then blinked, realized what he was doing, and frowned. He took a longer than necessary time to gather his things, then made his way out of the room, turning the lights out as he left. There had been a departmental memo last week in his box about leaving classroom lights on.


	2. Chapter 2

Later that day found Byakuya sitting on his couch, stack of quizzes in his lap, red pen in hand. So far, only two students had answered all ten questions correctly. Several papers had been left completely blank. One contained a sob story about a dying grandmother, which supposedly also had something to do with the four days of unexcused absences leading up to the quiz. Another had a doodle of what looked like characters from a comic. Another had a phone number.

Byakuya blinked at it, then quickly shuffled it underneath the rest.

"You _are _going. Aren't you?"

He had been very studiously ignoring the woman sitting on the bar separating his living room and kitchen for the past ten minutes now. This didn't seem to bother her; she chatted amiably enough, eating from a tub of Häagen-Dazs, one bare foot idly swinging.

"At least tell me what he looks like. You know, if you _are_ going, we have to get you dressed at some point. There's no way I'm letting you go to Cujo's in a suit."

He asked, annoyed, without looking up. "Why not?"

"A-ha!" She tossed the ice cream bucket aside in triumph and hopped lightly down from the bar. "So you _are_ going."

Byakuya finally glanced up. This woman, with her purple hair and catlike tendency to just show up at his home unannounced and unwanted, did not belong in his life. She had stopped belonging since fifth grade, when they used to play tag together on the playground and hold secret meetings behind the cafeteria to discuss bully evasive tactics.

"What's his name?" she asked, perching on the arm of the couch, lounging backwards to grin at him.

He thought of the quiz with the phone number at the bottom of the stack and frowned.

She chuckled. "Aww, you're blushing. Okay, you don't have to tell me anything about him. But come on." In the blink of an eye, the stacked quizzes were on the coffee table, and he was being pulled to his feet.

"Yoruichi," he said, his cool tone a warning. It was a tone that made students shrink back into their seats.

She chuckled again, pulling him into the bedroom until they stopped before his closet, where she released his hand to throw the doors open. "Hmmm. Doesn't look promising." Her hands rested on her hips for a moment before reaching inside to swish through clothes, metal hangers screeching as they glided across the bar. "Nope. Nope. Nope. Nobody wears turtlenecks anymore, you know. And a _pink_ one at that!"

"I have never concerned myself with what other people wear." He heard the stiffness in his own voice.

"Oh, come on." She pulled out a green sweater and examined it for a moment. "You TiVo Project Runway."

"That's for Rukia. They don't get the Style Network."

She chuckled, replacing the sweater. "Aren't you the sweet older brother. Try this on."

Four different shirts and three pairs of pants later found him in a pair of old (very old) jeans and a black, long-sleeved Nine Inch Nails t-shirt. They both went and stood in front of the mirror in the tiny bathroom, her peeking critically over his shoulder, him staring with expressionless malice back at his own reflection.

"I look 18," he finally pronounced.

"Perfect!" she cried, grinning back at him through the mirror. "Just what I was going for. Hey, you could officially be on Ten Years Younger!"

He thought about saying he'd never heard of the show, but changed his mind. "This isn't even my shirt."

"Mm, yes it is." She smoothed out a few wrinkles over his chest.

"No, it isn't. It's yours."

"Yes, but I gave it to you," she reminded him. "It was too big, remember? They didn't have women's sizes."

He was silent for a moment, just staring, gazing at the backwards letters through the glass. "I don't even know who they are," he finally admitted. Normally, he would've taken pride in _not_ knowing. A thought then occurred to him, dark enough to allow him to hear the smallness of his own voice: "What if he asks me?"

She smiled, her head tilted back, chin now resting on his shoulder. "He'll think it's cute. Don't worry about it."

He sighed, the sound almost inaudible. He supposed he didn't have any other choice but to believe her.


	3. Chapter 3

He heard the noise long before he saw the sign over the building.

It was dark inside, but he had anticipated that. It smelled like stale liquor and sweat, which he'd also anticipated. But it was surprisingly cool.

He felt old. It occurred rather alarmingly to him that he might very well meet one of his students at a place like this—the irony of the thought did not strike him as being all that funny.

He sensed his own awkwardness and wondered if it was outwardly apparent. A boy at the door took his money and had the gall to ask for his I.D. With exaggerated dignity, he fished his wallet out of his pocket and displayed his license, half-fearing some sort of sarcastic comment once it was revealed how old he was, or at least a raised eyebrow. But the boy only nodded and gave him his change.

"Cool shirt," he added, his voice barely audible over the noise.

Byakuya did not know what to say to that, so he only nodded.

He moved further into the place, the din growing progressively louder. The area around the bar was crowded, and he had no particular desire to fight his way through a throng of drunken, ribald teenagers, so he continued past it. The area around the bandstand—what he assumed was the bandstand—was equally crowded, if not more so. He couldn't see a thing, no matter how much he craned his head back or stood on his toes. A feeling of warmth began to creep over him, the longer he stood there alone, wondering if he'd gotten the date wrong.

Or if it had all been a big joke to begin with.

Then, for a brief moment, the crowd parted. He saw a woman, breasts impossibly large, screaming into the mic, wavy brown hair clinging in sweaty tendrils to her temples. Behind her, a bald drummer pounded away, his head nodding with the beat. Next to the singer, a spiky-haired guitarist with the most ridiculous tattoo on his cheek and what looked like a dog collar around his throat. And beside him…

All that red hair—it was pulled back as usual, a black bandana replacing the scarf, presumably to keep the sweat out of his eyes. Shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing, even in the dim lighting, the black tattoos that curled around each arm. The shirt itself was untucked and unbuttoned, more black lines dancing down his chest, now glistening faintly with perspiration. Sometimes he would lean forward, lend his voice to the lead singer's, his eyes closing briefly. Once, they opened and caught Byakuya's, still peering wide-eyed through the crowd. He looked surprised, then smiled and winked.

Several heads turned as one, curious eyes wondering who the recipient of that wink could possibly be. Byakuya blinked and suddenly felt as if he were standing before a crowded auditorium, preparing to defend his dissertation to his academic betters. Had he thought this place cool earlier? It was absolutely stifling.

At that point, the song—if one wanted to call it that—came to an end. Rather than launch into a new one, the singer announced that they were taking a quick break and would be back shortly. The crowd shifted, the atmosphere now ringing with laughter and drunken chatter, and now the sound of an old Nirvana song being pumped through the loud speaker. Byakuya turned and wondered if he ought to find a table, but they all appeared to be taken. Then he had the fleeting, wistful thought of hurrying back to the boy at the door and getting his money back.

"Hey, Renji! He's over here."

Byakuya turned at the sound of the voice, coming face to face with the spiky-haired guitarist. The man gave him a friendly smile, then looked over his shoulder at the grinning redhead pushing through the crowd to join them.

"Hey!"

Renji—his name was Renji, of course, Abarai Renji. Renji grinned at him, brown eyes sparkling, skin still glistening faintly. Grinned _down_ at him, actually, as the younger man was quite a bit taller than he was. "I didn't think you'd come. Well," he shrugged, "I mean, I didn't know if you would or not. But you did." And he grinned again.

"I did," Byakuya agreed, and he felt himself smile, just a little.

Renji laughed. "Yeah, I see that. Hey, cool shirt." He seemed to notice it for the first time, another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he were sharing a private joke with himself. "Oh hey, want a beer? Wait, lets go grab a spot first."

Byakuya didn't reply, only nodded and silently followed after him. Or he _would_ have followed, except that Renji paused after a second and sort of casually put a hand to his back, just between his shoulder blades, to help guide him through the crowd. Byakuya felt the warmth of his palm even through his shirt.

They came to a table occupied by the rest of the band. The singer was slouching in a chair, fanning herself and laughing, her breasts shaking, causing every male eye to zoom in appreciatively. The man she was talking to smirked and laughed with her, evidently at some joke they were sharing. The spiky-haired guitarist reappeared carrying two drinks in his hand, a beer and something in a martini glass, which he handed to the other man. The singer pouted.

"Aww, Hisagi, you're such a meanie! Where's mine?"

Hisagi shrugged and sipped his beer. "You didn't ask."

The other man smirked again and quipped, "Mhmm. That and you aren't sleeping with him." That set them both off again, laughing. Hisagi seemed habitually nonplussed by their antics, but only casually so. He started to sit down in the chair next to the man with the martini, but then stood up again, seeing Byakuya and Renji approach.

Renji stopped, grinning, confident, and Byakuya stopped beside him. "Okay! Time for introductions" He rubbed his hands together, then started pointing. "The babe with the tits is Rangiku, but she goes by Ku-Ku."

The singer protested. "Do not!" She threw a balled up napkin at Renji, who easily blocked it.

"The fruitcake next to her sipping on the girly drink is Yumi. He belongs to Hisagi there."

Hisagi waved, his other hand coming to rest on Yumi's thigh when the man crossed his arms and _hmphed!_ at Renji's description of him.

"And baldy over there is Ike. Say hi, Ike."

The drummer turned away from the girl he was chatting up and nodded briefly before returning to his conversation.

"So that's everybody, I think." Renji paused to scratch the tip of his nose. "Oh yeah. Everybody, this is Professor Kuchiki." He grinned. "I was in his class, but I dropped."

Byakuya couldn't resist frowning at that. He also came close to pointing out that he wasn't a professor yet, but changed his mind.

"I also go by Byakuya," he said dryly.

"Oh, yeah," Renji agreed, chuckling. He looked mildly embarrassed for some reason.

Rangiku suddenly clapped her hands, a huge smile on her face. "Ohh, Renji, he's so _cute_!! Are they always this cute?" She laughed. "Maybe I should sign up next semester, huh?"

Renji grinned, and Byakuya suddenly felt the heavy weight of his arm around his shoulders. It was startling. "Well, you can try," he said, still grinning. "But I think it's slim pickings after this."

Byakuya wondered if he ought to be offended on the behalf of his fellow teachers, but it was a fleeting thought. Renji, he noticed, smelled nice, even despite the sweaty open torso.

Hisagi nodded at him. "Hey. Wanna sit down?"

Byakuya nodded back. "Thank you." He moved to claim the remaining seat next to the smirking Yumi, Hisagi standing back to give him space.

Renji glanced over at the bar, now even more crowded. "Oh, hey. I'll go get you that beer now. Anything special?"

Byakuya shook his head. He actually hated beer, but preferred not to have to deal with the hassle of requesting what would apparently amount to a "girly" drink.

"So…" Rangiku leaned forward to smile at him, resting her elbows on the table, her larges breasts squeezing between them. "You're a teacher, huh?" She grinned. "I bet you get a lot of phone numbers scribbled onto quizzes."

Byakuya blinked and felt a warmth begin to spread over him. He felt irked without understanding why, knowing that Renji had told his band mates about that.

"No," he finally said, "Not very many."

She laughed. "Oh, come on. I bet you've at least been asked out before. You look way too young to be a professor."

He smiled, just a little. "Actually, I'm a graduate student. I teach two classes a semester for a small stipend, but that's only to make it possible for me to study without having to concern myself with tuition. I really see myself as more of a student than a teacher."

Behind Yumi, Hisagi chuckled. "Man, don't tell Renji that. I think he gets off on that student/teacher thing."

Yumi's eyes widened, a delighted smile coming to face. "Ooo, classroom sex, classroom sex!" He laughed and clapped his hands, Rangiku joining in until they were leaning against one another from laughing so hard. Hisagi only sipped his beer and rolled his eyes. Byakuya had a feeling that he only rolled his eyes when Yumi wasn't looking, though.

But for all their snarkiness, they seemed to be friendly enough, and to not tease him more than they teased one another. Somehow, during the brief conversation they had, over the noisy din of the club, he learned that Yumi and Hisagi had been dating for three years, and that Hisagi and Rangiku had dated very briefly before that. This was the subject of much hilarity between Yumi and Rangiku, and Byakuya could tell that it left Hisagi feeling a bit unsettled.

The band had been together for only two years, officially. Renji and Ikkaku ("Ike") had started it while still in high school but hadn't recruited the other two until recently. They had an album, self-produced, and were excited to have recently gotten airtime on the university radio station.

_Since high school_. Byakuya didn't dare ask how long ago that was, not particularly wanting to know the answer.

"Whew!"

He started back quickly as a bottle was suddenly plunked down on the table in front of him, then looked up at a grinning Renji. "Hope you enjoy it 'cause that's the last time I try to shove my way through _that_. Some chick even told me I stink! Can you believe that?" He paused to lift one arm experimentally, pushing his nose in the crook between arm and shoulder, his forehead wrinkling a little. "Ehh."

Byakuya just stared at him.

Predictably, Rangiku and Yumi started laughing again. Hisagi only chuckled and shook his head.

Renji blinked. "What?"

Byakuya wrapped his fingers around the beer, reaching to push the lemon wedge down into the neck. "Thank you."

At this point, even Ikkaku had to turn and join in on the conversation. "Laying the charm on, thick as usual, is he?" He snorted.

"What?" Renji asked again. He looked at all of them. "Shit, I'd apologize, but I dunno what I'm apologizing for." He scratched his jaw this time, glancing back at the stage.

Hisagi noticed. "Yeah. Okay, Babe, this next set won't be long." That was directed to Yumi, who only rolled his eyes before tilting his head obligingly up for a parting kiss. For some reason, Byakuya glanced at Renji, who only grinned at him. He looked away, a feeling of warmth creeping over him again, and picked up his beer but didn't sip it.

"Here."

Byakuya blinked and met Yumi's smirking gaze, then at the martini glass he offered him. He glanced up again, seeing the four band members already retreating to the stage again, Renji evidently confident that he would wait the rest of the set out with Yumi.

He sighed, finally allowing a look of distaste to cross his face as he pushed the beer farther away. "Thank you," he said, picking up the martini glass and sipping it. He noticed that Yumi had poured half into another glass and was now sipping from that.

Yumi smirked again, but the expression was more playful than anything. "No problem," he said. "Beer is for ugly people and boyfriends."

Byakuya couldn't think of what to say in response. But at least now he could blame his red face on the startling yet welcome combination of gin and Dry vermouth.


	4. Chapter 4

"All right, that's it for us!" Rangiku's slightly hoarse voice rang out into the mic. "Thanks for coming out, guys! We'll be back here next week, Friday night."

Byakuya sipped at his third martini—a lemon drop, actually, which Yumi had assured him was ten times tastier than the original. "I never request specifics from Hisagi," he'd explained, rolling his eyes and waving his hand dramatically. "He just gets it all wrong." But a waitress had come by twice, and Yumi had suggested the lemon drop on their third round.

It was tart. And surrounded by sugar. Byakuya didn't fully comprehend the effect three drinks had had on him until he realized he was using his finger to lick off the sugar from the rim.

"Aren't they great?" Yumi enthused, his eyes fixed adoringly on the stage, which was finally made visible by the thinning crowd.

Byakuya frowned. How to put this as politely as possible. "I don't think it's my kind of music."

Yumi laughed. "It's awful, I know. The music I mean. But I was talking about _them_." He had a momentarily dreamy look on his face, his eyes focusing on Hisagi as the guitarist helped unplug some of the equipment. Byakuya had seen that same look on his sister's face at her wedding two years ago. He had never seen that particular expression in her eyes, and it had affected him more deeply than he realized.

He followed Yumi's gaze, his own shifting automatically to Renji, who was talking to two women. He frowned. "I suppose."

He felt a nudge against his left arm and turned to look at the other man.

"Don't mind any of _that_." Yumi smiled—he realized it _was_ a smile now, not a smirk. "It doesn't mean anything. You'll get used to it."

Byakuya frowned yet again. "I don't know what you're talking about." But rather than his usual stiff, dry tone, he came off sounding sheepish, which apparently is what six shots or so of hard liquor will do to a person.

"Hey, Babe." Hisagi waved to catch Yumi's attention. "I'm going to help Ike load up."

Rangiku bounced off the stage. "Oh, I'll keep him company." She made her way over to their table, flopping back down in the seat she'd vacated an hour or so ago. "Ohh, what's this?"

"Lemon drop," said Yumi, pushing the glass her way.

Byakuya felt more than saw the sudden shadow looming over him. He looked up into Renji's grinning face.

"Hey there." He slid onto the stool next to Byakuya, leaning forward a bit, elbows on the table. Byakuya could get a clearer look at his tattoos now, how they curled almost down to his wrists. He didn't realize he was staring or he would have stopped.

"Having fun yet? Weren't bored, were you?" There was a briefly anxious look in his eyes that made him look rather young.

Byakuya smiled. "I'm fine. Thank you for inviting me."

The anxious look disappeared, replaced once again by the big grin. "Hey." He chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. "You smiled!"

Byakuya blinked.

"Oops. Lost it again." Renji's lips quirked, the corners tilting up ever so slightly.

"Don't be ridiculous. He frowned and reached for his glass. "I smile all the time."

"That so?"

"Yes."

There was an unexpected silence then, while he sipped the last of his drink, expecting some sort of smart comeback. Surprised, he looked up again (having to refrain from wincing at that last shot of tangy-flavored vodka against his tongue), only to see Renji just staring at him, grinning.

His frown deepened. "What?"

"Nothing." Renji shrugged, cheek now resting on his hand. "Just that—HEY!! Fuck's a matter with you?!"

Byakuya started, thinking at first the redhead was screaming at him, until he turned around and saw the two eager, curious faces of Rangiku and Yumi, completely silent, obviously eavesdropping.

Rangiku pouted. "Aww, Renji, don't be a meanie. We've just never heard you flirt before!"

Yumi smirked—it was definitely a smirk this time. "Very inspiring, Abarai. Do you mind if I take notes?"

Rangiku whirled around, looking for her purse. "Wait! I think I have a pen!"

Renji snarled. "Come on!!" _That_ one was definitely directed at him. "Let's get outta here before I fucking bash their heads together." He stood up. "I'll walk you to your car."

Byakuya stood as well. "I didn't park all that far from here."

Rangiku and Yumi looked up at him as if he were an idiot.

He blinked. "I mean… all right."

Renji scowled and didn't reply, just waited for him to shrug into his jacket again before dropping an arm around his shoulders and heading out with him. It wasn't any less surprising than the first time he did it. But it wasn't any less pleasant, either.

"What about your guitar?" he asked, turning back to glance at the stage.

Renji chuckled before moving quickly forward to open the door for him. "It's not a guitar."

Byakuya looked up at him in surprise. "What?"

"It's a bass."

_Stupid!!_

"Oh," he finally said, wanting briefly to disappear and fade into the surrounding darkness. Either that or throw himself into the line of oncoming night traffic.

But then he heard that warm chuckle again, the arm around his shoulders squeezing, almost absently. "Don't be so embarrassed. It's cute."

Byakuya frowned. "What's cute?"

Renji groaned and rolled his eyes, head lolling back. "Auuugh. You're not sposed to _ask_. Now you're gettin' _me_ all fucking embarrassed."

He couldn't think of an immediate reply, and so said nothing.

"Anyway, I'm not leaving just yet. I rode with Ike, so I'll head back and help them finish loading up if they aren't already done."

Presently, they came to the parking lot behind the abandoned grocer's where he'd left his car, now in a mostly empty lot. "It was full when I arrived here," he remarked, rather surprised. And it had been still daylight, too.

"Geezus!" Renji frowned. "Don't park here again. Park behind the club next time. I'll show you where; you can just pull up behind one of us."

Byakuya only nodded, not quite sure what to make of this implied "next time." They walked up to his car, Renji withdrawing his arm while he fished for the keys in his pocket. He found himself rather keenly aware of the younger man's hovering presence and almost fumbled, fishing for the right one to push into the lock, then open the door.

He turned again to face Renji, who now leaned forward a bit, propping one arm casually up on the open door.

"Thank you for inviting me tonight," he said again.

Renji shrugged, grin tugging at the corners of his mouth again. "My pleasure."

Byakuya stared up at him for a second, then sort of nodded and turned back to the car.

"Hey! Aren't you even gonna let me kiss you?"

He turned again, surprised, blinking. "On the first date?"

Renji grinned again. There was something about the expression this time however that he didn't quite trust. "What, is that like some kind of rule or something?"

Byakuya hesitated. "Well, no—"

And suddenly Renji's lips were pressing against his own.

Byakuya blinked, staring into the other man's eyes before letting his own slowly slide closed. He felt Renji's arm come around him, pulling him closer, their mouths hovering against one another before slowly opening and pressing together again, the tips of their tongues touching before slowly merging.

When they finally parted, he realized his palms were pressed to Renji's chest, fingers digging lightly into his skin. He dropped his hands quickly, absently licking his lips, his eyes dropping.

Renji touched his cheek and he looked up again, frowning at that ever present grin of his. "Hey. You got my number, huh?"

Byakuya looked at him for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay. So that means you actually have to use it. If you don't, I'm gonna come find you in your office and create some kinda scandal." He grinned. "Probably get you fired."

Byakuya lifted a brow. "Is that a threat?"

"Damn straight it is."

He started to smile but thought better of it. Renji looked serious.

"All right." He nodded, then finally pulled reluctantly away from the other man. It was a cold night. With his still-open shirt, Renji must be freezing. "I'll call you." He gave him a look. "There's no need for you to harass me at work."

Renji grinned. "If you say so, Teach."

Byakuya finally gave in to the urge he'd been holding back all night and rolled his eyes. He closed the car door and started up the car, reaching back for his seatbelt. Renji knocked on his window and waved, smiling, then stepped away as the car started to roll out of the parking lot.

It wasn't until he pulled into the drive and saw his face in the rearview mirror that Byakuya realized he'd been smiling all the way home.


	5. Chapter 5

Byakuya frowned slightly and paused to bookmark his book before laying it on his desk and leaning forward to answer his ringing office phone.

"Yes?"

"Hey, boo."

His frowned deepened, the beginnings of a scowl furrowing between his brows. "How did you get this number?" He swiveled his chair away to face the wall, away from the other desks.

"My expert sleuthing skills I learned at CIA training camp." Yoruichi chuckled. "I called the main office. So what's up?"

"I'm busy."

"Yeah right. If you answered your phone that means your holding office hours, and the only reason you're doing that is because some broad in a pink blazer and pumps loves to make rules as much as you love to follow them."

"Her name is Dr. Andersen." He smiled, turning, cradling the phone against his shoulder. "She does wear a great deal of pink."

"They always do. Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Don't play stupid, Mr. 5 Degrees. How'd the date go? Was Wonder Boy everything you were hoping for?"

Byakuya glanced over his shoulder, but none of the other grad students were paying attention to him. He lowered his voice nonetheless. "It was fine."

"Eh? Speak up. Did he call you yet?"

"No."

You gave him your phone number, didn't you?"

He hesitated. "No."

"What?!"

He winced and held the receiver away from his ear.

She paused for a second, seeming to draw in a breath. "All right. Then tell me it's not completely hopeless. Tell me he gave you _his_ number."

He thought of the quiz with the bold red numbers scratched across the top and smiled.

"Hello?"

"Yes," he said, fumbling with the phone a little. It was a big, brown, plastic contraption, just leftover garbage the department always filtered down to the grad student suites.

"Excellent." He heard the smug satisfaction in her voice. "And you called him, right?"

Byakuya frowned and crossed his legs. "No, I—"

"Yo, Teach!"

He started so violently he dropped the phone, trying vainly to grab it mid-air before it bounced against the side of the desk and hit the floor with a loud clatter. He bent to quickly pick it up before swiveling around to face the tall, tattooed redhead hovering over his desk.

Renji grinned. "Hey."

He spoke quickly into the receiver. "I have to go." Yoruichi's muffled voice rang out in surprise just as he hung up.

Renji sat down on the corner of the desk, arms folded over his chest, wearing what was apparently a pretend-angry look on his face.

Byakuya blinked. "I was going to call you."

Renji lifted a brow.

Byakuya glanced past him at the other grad students, who were now all definitely watching and listening. He swallowed, attempting to regain his self-composure. "I merely wished to wait a respectable amount of time before doing so."

Renji chuckled. "A respectable amount of time? What the hell? You read about that in some book?"

Byakuya remained silent. Rukia had given him that book some time ago and he had spent all evening the day afterward looking for it.

Renji picked up the book he'd been reading. "Ulysses. Greek dude, huh? Trojan War."

"Yes."

Renji looked proud of himself. Byakuya decided not to tell him it was in fact a modernist novel about the day-to-day lives of two Dubliners.

"Huh." Renji tossed the book back down on the desk. "So, you were gonna call me."

Byakuya nodded.

He smirked. "Yeah right. Well, lucky for you I'm feeling generous today. You get to make it up to me by having dinner with me tomorrow night." He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "That means your assignment is to call me before then and tell me where you wanna eat. Think you can handle that?"

Byakuya just looked at him.

Renji's grin widened. "What?"

Byakuya scoffed and looked away, feeling his face beginning to warm. "Would you mind not sitting on my desk?"

Renji leaned forward, smirking, brown eyes dancing. "Why? That bother you?"

"Yes."

"Hey. Look here." For reasons unfathomable to himself, Byakuya lifted his eyes to meet the younger man's. "Now what was it I said the other night in the parking lot? About what I'd do if you don't call me."

Byakuya's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare," he said softly, glancing once again at their rapt audience.

"Oh yeah?"

"If you do, I'll—"

You'd think he'd have learned after the first time.

Renji had hold of the front of his shirt this time as he kissed him, pulling him forward enough so he could lean down to press their lips together. Byakuya's hands reached up automatically to grip the younger man's arms, resisting at first, then quickly giving in, his head tilting back, eyes sliding closed. The kiss was much deeper this time, almost erotic, Renji's tongue stroking the inside of his cheek, nudging his tongue and encouraging it to slide against his own so he could suck gently on the tip.

They parted after what felt like an eternity, Renji's rough cheek nuzzling his own for a fraction of a second before he finally pulled away, a cocky little grin on his face. "So call me tonight, okay?"

Byakuya stared at him and then just nodded.

Renji chuckled. "All righty." He hopped off the side of the desk, pausing to give him that two-fingered salute of his. "See you tomorrow."

Byakuya watched him saunter back out into the hallway before turning to face the half dozen or so curious sets of eyes.

The next second the room was suddenly filled with the sound of people coughing and papers rustling, a conversation hastily springing up between a pair of grad students who shared the same Tuesday night class. He sighed, almost resignedly, then opened a draw to pull out the battered phone book, flipping to the yellow pages so he could start to browse through the restaurants listed.

"Marion's is nice," someone pointed out helpfully. "But you have to make reservations."

He frowned and moved his finger to the M's. After a moment, he picked up the phone and started to dial.


	6. Chapter 6

Before getting out of his car, Byakuya paused to reflect on the fact that he was going on a second date for the first time in five years.

That was a long time. Even he could admit as much.

And it wasn't even about the sex. It was the realization that he was slowly fading away into nothing, living inside that tiny rented house, going to work and class everyday without fail, striving his utmost to reach a goal that no longer held any meaning for him. And ever since Rukia's marriage, he had become even more secluded, his life even more meaningless, his evenings alone even more palpably depressing.

_It's called a quarter-life crisis_, Yoruichi had told him over the phone last night. _ I had one, too. You'll get over it._

Sometimes he really could kill her.

Byakuya pulled the key from the ignition and opened the car door, stepping out and making his way across the street and up to the front door of the restaurant. Marion's was an elegant little café, a place he liked to treat himself to sometimes, after a particularly difficult presentation or at the end of each semester. He had always imagined it would be a nice place to share a dinner with someone. He could just never put a face to the imaginary person sitting across from him.

He entered the café and paused before the girl behind the podium. "I have a reservation," he said. "Kuchiki."

She looked down then smiled and grabbed two menus. "Right this way, please."

He was led to a small table in the corner, the girl pausing to light the candle in the center before smiling at him. "Your waiter will be with you shortly. Enjoy your meal."

When the waiter came by, he ordered a glass of wine for himself, not knowing what Renji would prefer. A sudden thought made him reach out and stop the waiter before he disappeared again.

"Wait," he said. "Do you have…" He had to work himself up to it. "…beer?"

The waiter smiled. "Yes, sir, we do." He spouted out a list of exotic brand names that meant nothing to Byakuya. Evidently, they could only serve beer if the name were unpronounceable and it cost 10 dollars a bottle to ship it in.

He selected a German-sounding name, the waiter nodding and assuring him he'd be right out with the drinks. Byakuya sat back and sipped his water, his eyes dropping for a moment.

"Nah, it's all right. I see him. Thanks."

Renji's voice rang out easily over the soft music and surrounding light conversation. Byakuya was surprised to see he'd dressed up. He had on dark brown trousers and a nice, tucked in, white button-down shirt, open at the collar, revealing a tight black t-shirt underneath to match the tattoos snaking down his neck. Byakuya would have expected him to look uncomfortable in such an outfit, but he moved with the same casual confidence he always did.

"Hey." Renji grinned at him before pulling out the chair opposite his and sitting down. "Swanky place." He chuckled. "Figures you'd pick a place like this."

Byakuya frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Renji seemed unperturbed by his retort, grin still in place as he opened the menu. "Let's see what they got here. Hmmm. Calamari… that's squid, right?

"Yes."

"Great." He closed the menu. "I'll have the squid."

Byakuya looked at him. "Have you ever had calamari before?"

"Nope. Do we have a waiter?" He was looking around, peering up and down the aisle.

"How can you order something you've never even tried before?"

"Why not?" He frowned and picked up his water, held it up against the candlelight. "I think there's something in my water."

"That's a lemon"

He brought the glass closer, frowning down into it from above. "Oh yeah." He chuckled. "Just looked funny from that angle."

"What if you don't like it?"

"Don't like what?"

"The calamari!" Byakuya said, starting to feel exasperated.

That seemed to make him pause for a moment, as if considering. He gave Byakuya a thoughtful look. "Do _you_ like calamari?"

Byakuya blinked, not expecting the question. He frowned. "I suppose. But I don't see what that has to do with anything."

Renji grinned. "Great. Then we'll just switch."

Byakuya felt too dismayed to answer at first. He wanted to point out that maybe he didn't _want_ calamari, but it wasn't true. He didn't particularly care.

He sighed after a moment and picked up the menu, opening it. "Do you like chicken parmesan?"

"That's like spaghetti, right? With noodles?"

"Usually."

Renji shrugged. "Okay, yeah."

Byakuya nodded, then looked up at the waiter who was coming over with their drinks.

"Have you decided what to order?" he asked, pulling out a pad and pen, offering them both a smile.

Byakuya nodded and closed his menu. "I'll have the chicken parmesan."

The waiter paused to scribble it down before turning to Renji, who grinned. "I'll have the calamari." He looked proud of himself.

"So," he said, leaning forward on his elbows once the waiter left. "Had a good day at work?"

Unprepared for small talk, Byakuya frowned, but then he just sighed. "Busy," he admitted.

Renji frowned, too. "Sorry to hear that." He cocked his head. "You know, watching you all semester, I kinda got the feeling you weren't too happy, doing what you're doing. Or is it just because they make you teach the dumb fucks like us?" He smiled. "Bet you'd love to teach a whole class about that Ulysses guy, huh?"

"Watching me all semester?" Byakuya repeated dryly, raising one eyebrow.

Renji just chuckled. "Well?"

Byakuya sighed again, reaching out to fiddle with his wineglass, turning it around and around. "I don't know. It's difficult, sometimes." As usual, he struggled to put his feelings into words. And he found it was even harder to do so aloud and to another person.

He looked up, but Renji was only listening quietly.

He sipped his wine, trying to think. "I thought this was what I really wanted," he finally went on after awhile. "But lately it doesn't seem right. None of it does. I don't even know why I get up in the morning anymore. It's just so much work, and just…nothing in return." He made a face, annoyed. "I'm explaining it wrong."

Renji looked thoughtful. "Is this your job or the whole school thing?"

"I don't know. Both."

He nodded. "I guess they don't pay you much."

Byakuya actually laughed, the sound short and more bitter than he meant. "No. They don't."

Renji shrugged. "Well that's your problem. You're working your fucking ass off and getting fuck all to show for it. And you're constantly surrounded by people you pretty much figure are all smarter than you, or at least _as_ smart as you, so there's all this pressure to perform. And all you get for _that_ is some useless fucking grade.

"Yes," Byakuya said, feeling suddenly breathless. "Yes. So why continue? I mean, why put myself through this? The only reason I haven't quit is because it would give my entire family a reason to say _I told you so_.

Renji chuckled. "Buncha doctors, huh?"

He blinked. "How did you know?"

Renji shrugged. "Either that or lawyers. Fuck, I dunno, maybe royalty."

Byakuya gave him a look.

He laughed. "Okay, okay, sorry. Geez, you're so easy. I bet you don't realize how fucking adorable you are when you get pissed like that, either." He grinned. "But I guess judging from those red cheeks you do now."

Dismayed, Byakuya reached up to cover both cheeks with his palms. Betrayed by his own body.

Renji was still smiling. "You blush a lot. You blushed in class last week when that blonde chick asked you what a castrato was. I swear, I almost had a fucking orgasm just watching you."

At this point, Byakuya was on the verge of upending his entire glass of water over his head.

Renji laughed. "Does it bother you? Okay, I'll stop. Just makes me wanna kiss you anyway, and I don't wanna get tossed outta here before we've eaten." He looked around, peering about for the waiter. "Fuck, I'm starving."

Byakuya cleared his throat, still trying to find his voice. "The service here is usually very good."

"Oh, look. There he is." He sat up and rubbed his hands, an anticipatory look on his face as the waiter stopped at their table to set their steaming plates down before them.

Renji reached for the calamari, took one bite, and grimaced.

Byakuya looked at him, trying very hard not to smile. "Would you like to switch?" he asked.

Renji had to use a napkin before being able to speak again. "Holy fuck." He swallowed, grimacing again. "Hell no I don't wanna switch. You'll end up dying of food poisoning before I get a chance to even fuck you."

Byakuya surprised himself by laughing. "Now that _would_ be a tragedy!" he said, reaching for his wine, feeling his face warming.

Renji looked up with equal surprise, then immediately grinned. Byakuya noticed for the first time that his eyes sort of sparkled when he smiled, a tiny dimple forming at the corner of his mouth. "Fuck," he said suddenly, still grinning. "Let's get wasted." He turned and raised his hand, waving at the waiter. "I'm getting you one of those girly drinks."

"It's called a lemon drop."

"Whatever. Hey, waiter! WAITER!"

Byakuya just smiled and sipped his wine. He knew that if he stopped to think about this too long, he would begin to worry that he was dreaming. Maybe getting wasted was actually a good idea.


	7. Chapter 7

"So, five years, huh?"

Renji was leaning forward on his elbows, chin in hand, sparkle in his brown eyes, lips quirking into a smile. The full plate of calamari stood stacked on top of the empty plate of parmesan, next to several equally empty martini glasses but only one bottle of unpronounceable German beer.

"Yep." Byakuya nodded, pursing his lips. He laughed for no reason, not sure why that was funny.

Renji chuckled. "I guess I should feel pretty honored."

"Honored!" He scoffed, waving a hand. "Pfft. You wish. I could've had anybody. Anybody I wanted. You know that, don't you?"

Another amused chuckle. "Oh yeah. I'm well aware of that."

"So." He reached for his glass but it was empty. He made a face, then laughed. "I don't remember finishing that." That was funny for some reason, and Renji was smiling, so he must have thought so, too.

He smirked suddenly. "You wanna know a secret?"

Renji grinned. "Sure."

He sat back suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not gonna tell you until you get me another drink." His eyes widened suddenly, and he pointed an accusatory finger at the younger man. "_You_ drank it, didn't you?"

"I'm pretty sure you drank it."

He narrowed his eyes. "How sure?"

Renji just chuckled again. "Pretty sure. So what's your secret?"

That made him forget his anger. He smiled. "I can't tell you." Then he laughed. "It'll make me blush again."

"Well, that's okay."

"No, it's not. It's embarrassing."

"What if I pretend not to notice? Won't say a thing."

He paused to consider, then nodded. "Okay. Only if you promise. Pinky swear," he added.

Renji nodded. "Pinky swear."

But it was too bothersome to hold up his finger so he didn't. He smiled again. "I thought about you."

Renji's smile grew, his mouth quivering slightly, as if he were trying to repress it. "Oh yeah?"

Byakuya nodded. "Yep. Sometimes in class. Sometimes at home." He smiled, covering the gesture behind one hand. "I was so embarrassed when you asked me out. Then when I went to see you I thought it might be a joke. I almost left."

"Aww." Renji just looked at him, not pityingly, just…like he had something to say but thought better about saying it. Finally, he smiled. "Well, just so you know, I would never do that. Even if you didn't happen to be the cutest damn thing I'd ever seen behind a podium."

Byakuya smiled back, then suddenly yawned. "Mmm." He sat back in his chair. "I can't believe I have to work tomorrow." He sighed, long and heavy. "I should go to sleep. But I can't remember where I parked."

Renji leaned forward to pick up the ticket, glancing at it before pulling out some money from his wallet. "Don't worry about it. We can find it tomorrow." He stood then came around to gently put a hand under Byakuya's arm, encouraging him to stand. "Come on."

Byakuya stood, blinking, leaning slightly against him. "Oh, are we leaving?"

"Here. Put your coat on." Renji held it out for him, helped him draw his arms through it, then even buttoned it all the way up.

"It's not _that_ cold," he said, hearing the sullenness in his own voice.

Renji put a steadying arm around him. "It will be." He led him outside, helping him down a couple steps which Byakuya actually hadn't remembered climbing earlier. Instead of crossing the street or heading to the parking lot behind the restaurant, they only walked a couple feet before pausing in front of a motorcycle.

Renji pulled his arm away to unfasten the helmet from the bike before turning back to face Byakuya, who stared dumbly back at him as he carefully fitted the helmet over his head, buckling the strap under his chin.

"Feel snug enough?" he asked, brown eyes regarding him with concern.

Byakuya nodded, reaching up to touch the bulky contraption surrounding his head. He smiled suddenly. "Are you giving me a ride?"

"Yep." He turned to straddle the bike, then beckoned Byakuya to mount behind him, pulling his arms around his waist, instructing him to hold on very tightly. Byakuya nodded again, obligingly tightening his arms and hooking his fingers under the younger man's belt.

The motorcycle was impossibly loud. He thought he'd never heard anything so loud in all his life. It was also fast. Really, really fast. He honestly didn't need to be told twice to hold on tightly. Frankly, he feared for his life. And it didn't help that even when they stopped his eyes were telling him the surrounding buildings were still going.

They pulled into an apartment complex, Renji parking the bike under a small awning in front of one of the buildings. Byakuya stayed sitting while he removed the helmet, then stood up when he offered him his arm again. He held onto that arm as if it were his lifeblood, walking having suddenly become the most difficult task imaginable. That didn't make it any less amusing, though; once he stumbled where grass met sidewalk and had to pause for almost 30 seconds just to laugh before he could continue on.

When they came to the stairs, they both paused.

Renji frowned. "You know, you don't look like you'd be all that heavy."

Byakuya made a face. "Don't be silly. I can walk."

Renji just _hmphed_.

Inside the apartment, he wanted to pause and take in his surroundings, to see whether Renji was neat or messy, whether he bothered to decorate, whether or not he had a cat. But the floor was moving too much, and suddenly there was a couch, and he was sitting on it, his head tilting back, allowing him to focus on a small crack in the off-white ceiling.

He felt Renji pat his knee. "Okay, just sit down. I'm going to go get you something or else you'll wake up tomorrow feeling like shit."

"Mmm," he said, or tried to say, but he couldn't force the sound from his throat. Gradually, his eyes started to close, and then his thoughts started to drift. He began to wonder where Renji was, and then he wondered where he himself was. He smiled for some reason without recalling why he was happy. His last thought wasn't a thought at all, just Renji smiling at him, brown eyes dancing, warm and inviting.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey."

Byakuya moaned and rolled over, ignoring the hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him.

A sigh, then more gentle shaking. "Hey, come on. Time for wakies."

He sighed himself, heavily, then rolled onto his back, but didn't open his eyes. His brain felt as if it were pounding his skull from the inside out, trying to escape through an imaginary hole between his eyes.

He lay there for awhile, waiting mostly for his stomach to stop turning slow flips and forming itself into a knot, but of course it never did. _I have a hang over_, he realized with some surprise. Then he suddenly remembered where he was.

His eyes snapped open.

Renji smiled down at him. "Hey there, Sleepyhead." He reached out to push a few strands of hair out of Byakuya's eyes, Byakuya only blinking up at him in unfeigned bewilderment.

He managed to find his tongue after a minute, thick and fuzzy as it was. "Hey…" He swallowed and winced, reaching up to touch his forehead. His eyes met Renji's again, then suddenly flew wide open.

He tried to speak again, feeling suddenly breathless. "Did we…?" He swallowed again, tried to sit up. "I mean, did you…?"

Renji grinned. "Oh yeah. All night, too. Got this fetish for fucking drunk hotties, you know. But don't worry, you weren't even awake." He paused. "I think you moaned a couple times though. Seemed to like it."

Byakuya just stared up at him. "Is that supposed to be funny?" he finally asked.

Renji chuckled. "I thought so. Just paying you back for that horrified look you had on your face a second ago."

Byakuya made a face but didn't respond. It was too early, and his head hurt. He was about to close his eyes again, but then it suddenly hit him. Friday morning, sunlight streaming through the window…

"Oh my god!!" He sat up quickly, eyes flying wide open now. "What time is—_ahhhh_…" He had to grip his head suddenly, then sort of shift into a fetal position, his stomach starting to act up again, too.

He heard Renji turn, reaching for something, then take one of his hands, pushing something into it. "Here you go." Byakuya opened his eyes to stare down at the pills in his slightly shaking palm. "And it's just after seven. You can take a shower if you want. I'll bring you to work, okay?"

Byakuya frowned, rubbing his forehead, having to resist the urge to moan low in his throat. "Where's my car?" he asked, silently nodding his thanks when Renji handed him the glass of water.

But then he remembered, just as Renji replied, "Still at the restaurant. Just call me when you're done and I'll swing by again, then we can go pick it up."

Byakuya frowned, finally realizing what he was suggesting. "Oh no. No way." He met Renji's eyes, trying to keep his gaze steady. "I'm not riding on that thing again."

Renji just chuckled. "So damn prissy in the mornings. Hurry up and shower or you'll be late." He got up then and disappeared into the next room. Byakuya sat there for a moment, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen, a coffee pot brewing, a toaster clicking into place.

He touched his head again, wincing as he carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed—which is right about when he realized, yes, he was in a bed. He looked over to the other side and saw that the sheets were still relatively neat, no sign of having been slept in. He felt touched and disappointed at the same time.

The bathroom was surprisingly clean. He wondered if Renji had a roommate or if this was only a guest room, but then he saw the familiar black kerchief lying on the counter, plus the brown pants and white shirt from last night lying in the hamper, one pants leg half-hanging over the side. He reached over to absently push it all the way in before disrobing and stepping into the shower stall.

He felt a little better after that, his headache not so pounding and his stomach—not quite settling, but manageable. He pulled his clothes back on, examining himself fretfully in the mirror, doing his best to smooth out wrinkles. He thought about borrowing some clothes, but that would be even more ridiculous: shirt sleeves hanging over his knuckles, pants legs dragging on the ground. An exaggeration, perhaps, but he couldn't stand to wear untailored clothes.

Renji looked up as he entered the kitchen. "Hey," he said. "Feeling better?" He paused to stir some cream into his coffee, tapping the spoon against the side of the mug before tossing it into the sink.

Byakuya nodded, sinking into a chair at the table. He watched as Renji paused to sip his coffee before heading for the fridge and pulling out a bottle of blue Gatorade, which he plunked down before Byakuya along with a plate of toast.

Byakuya looked down at his "breakfast" in dismay, then back up Renji. "I want coffee," he said, fully aware of how pitiful he sounded. He _felt_ pitiful.

Renji shook his head, sitting down next to him. "Just drink it. And eat if you can, but stop if you feel like you're gonna yak."

Byakuya made a disgusted face at that, but did as instructed. He finished the bottle of Gatorade in a matter of seconds and still felt utterly parched afterward.

He turned his head, hearing Renji chuckle.

"You poor thing. You're so pale.

Byakuya huffed under his breath, reaching to gingerly pick up his toast. "Your powers of observation are beyond measure."

Renji grinned. "Thanks."

After a few nibbles (which were all he could manage), he set the toast down, pushing the plate away. Renji took the hint and paused to take one last sip of his coffee before standing. "Ready?"

Byakuya nodded and stood as well. Renji found his shoes for him then handed him his coat before opening the door and leading the way out. Byakuya followed, hand sliding along the wooden railing, shivering slightly since his hair was still damp. His stomach clenched in unwelcome anticipation as they neared the little awning where the bike was still parked.

Once again he stood silently while the helmet was carefully fitted around his head, the chinstrap pulled until it fit snugly against his skin. For the first time that morning, he noticed how distant Renji was being, not teasing him or finding excuses to touch him. He realized abruptly how inappropriate it had been for him to get so drunk he couldn't even drive last night—and how that must have seriously interfered with whatever plans Renji probably had for them after dinner.

Plans? _On the second date??_

"I'm sorry," he finally said anyway, immediately noting the look of surprise it elicited from Renji.

"For what?" he asked.

Now he felt stupid for even saying it. "Never mind," he said with his usual stiffness. He turned to straddle the bike awkwardly, keeping his eyes determinedly focused on the seat.

Renji chuckled, sounding his usual self again, but he didn't say anything further, just settled in front of Byakuya, once again reaching back for his hands and pulling them around his waist. He tilted his head back, their eyes meeting. "Make sure you hold on tight," he said, his voice warm and amused, his hands lingering over Byakuya's. Byakuya nodded and leaned in, his chest to the younger man's back, hooking his thumbs into his belt as he had last night.

When Renji started up the noisy engine, he shut his eyes, unconsciously tightening his arms and even squeezing his legs. It was a horrifying experience. Hung over and scared for his life, all he could do was hold on tight and distract himself by trying to remember what it was they were doing in class today. Peer-reviewing, wasn't it? Yes, peer-reviewing. And he wouldn't be so lenient this time; if they didn't have a typed rough draft already prepared they might as well go home. Yes… and four unexcused absences meant one letter grade lower… no exceptions…

"Hey."

He opened his eyes slowly, then straightened, realizing they had stopped for good. Renji was looking back at him, a crooked grin on his face. He'd cut the engine, one leg stretched out, foot on the curb.

Byakuya pulled his arms self-consciously from Renji's waist and started to fumble with the helmet straps under his chin.

"Hey," Renji repeated, twisting around, pushing his hands away. "Take it easy, okay?" He undid the straps quickly, then carefully pulled the helmet away, Byakuya going a bit cross-eyed as he did.

"Everyone is staring at me," he finally said, fully aware of the gawking students that strolled past them.

Renji chuckled. "So?" He grinned, cocking a brow. "They're probably just jealous."

Byakuya scoffed and made to get up, pausing when Renji laid a hand on his thigh, looking back at him.

They stared into one another's eyes for a moment, Renji still half-turned. This time Byakuya wasn't even really aware of leaning in to kiss him—he just suddenly realized that they were, his head slightly tilted, eyes closed, Renji's mouth parting his own, tongue gently teasing his own. And for about fifteen seconds or so, he neither knew nor cared who was watching them.

Renji pulled away first, giving him a half-smile, their faces still close for a second before they both straightened again. Byakuya braced his hands on the younger man's shoulders as he stood, climbing off of the bike.

Renji looked up at him. "Okay, so I'll come by and get you again in a couple hours. That sound cool?"

Byakuya nodded, then added. "I'll just call you."

Renji blinked—then broke out into a huge grin. "Okay," he said again. "Sounds good." He gave him a wink before facing forward again, fitting the helmet over his own head before revving the bike up again. Byakuya watched until he rounded the street corner and was gone. He sighed a little, then turned—only to face a pair of wide-eyed, staring girls from his 8 o'clock class.

He froze—then thought of what Renji had just said and smiled. He nodded politely to them before continuing past, absently pulling his keys out of his pocket as he approached the English building, heading for the outer stairwell. He still had a few minutes before class started. His office was on the first floor, but there was a Faculty Men's Room on the second floor. He felt it best to get this out of the way rather than risk throwing up on one of his students mid-conference.


	9. Chapter 9

Byakuya frowned and propped his elbow up against the side of the car door, resting his cheek against his fist.

"This is silly," he said. "Why can't I open my eyes?" Riding in the passenger seat with his eyes closed was starting to make him feel sick. Nothing compared to that morning three weeks ago, but it was enough to put him in a rather testy mood.

"Because," Renji said, "It's supposed to be a surprise." He sounded distracted. He was driving Byakuya's car and kept forgetting to shift.

"If you wreck my car, you're buying me a new one."

Renji chuckled. "Nah. I'll just tote you around on my bike. I know how much you like it."

Byakuya paled and said nothing more.

He felt the car slow and gradually turn, then seem to pause before easing carefully into position before finally stopping. "Can I open my eyes yet?"

"Nope." He heard the keys being yanked out of the ignition, then the car door opening and slamming shut again. A second later, the passenger door opened. He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for Renji's arm, the younger man helping him stand, then closing the door behind him.

"Okay, just hold on to me. I promise I won't let you trip."

He wrinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"

"I dunno. Somebody barbecuing, I guess."

He had the strangest feeling of déjà vu as they made their slow, careful way from the car. They crossed a long patch of soft earth and presumably grass, then he stumbled, the toe of his shoe hitting pavement.

"Careful."

"Yes, thank you." He tightened his grip on Renji's arm. "By the way, I don't have insurance. If I break my neck—why are we stopping?"

Tired of playing Renji's ridiculous game, he finally opened his eyes, and had his suspicions immediately confirmed: they were standing at the foot of the stairs leading up to Renji's apartment.

Renji turned to him with a smug grin, but the expression was wiped immediately from his face when he caught Byakuya looking. "Hey!!" He looked genuinely upset. "What the hell part of 'surprise' do you not understand?!"

Byakuya lifted one eyebrow. "Renji, this isn't a surprise. It's your apartment."

He was about to just head up, but then he saw the look in Renji's eyes and realized—he was actually hurt.

Byakuya paused, blinking. "Do you…" He paused again, clearing his throat. "What were you planning to do? Carry me up?"

Renji just crossed his arms, a stubborn set to his jaw now.

Byakuya stared at him for a moment longer, then sighed, telling himself he would regret this, and closed his eyes again.

He was wondering how long Renji was going to make him stand like this until he finally felt an arm curl around his back. "Put your arm around my neck," came the gruff command, and he obligingly obeyed. Then he felt Renji lift him, the younger man grunting slightly, hooking the other arm under his legs.

"This is all rather romantic," he commented dryly.

Renji grunted. "That's sort of the idea."

He rested a hand on Renji's arm as soon as he was placed back on his feet, keeping his eyes still closed. "Oh my," he said, feeling very unlike himself, yet unable to resist. "Wherever could we be?"

"Don't push it, Smartypants."

He heard the door unlock and open, then felt a gentle hand on his back, urging him forward. He felt curiosity creeping over him, despite himself, wondering what on earth was inside. It wasn't his birthday. He honestly had no idea what Renji could be up to.

"Okay. You can open your eyes."

He did—and immediately gaped at the scene before him.

"SURPRISE!!!"

A half dozen or so people shouted out, arms raised, faces grinning. He recognized them all: the three members from Renji's band plus Yumichika, a smiling, purple- (and now also pink-) haired Yoruichi, and…

He blinked. "Rukia?!"

His little sister beamed back at him from where she was standing beside Yoruichi. "Hey." Her eyes were sparkling, the way they did when she was really happy about something, yet unable to find the words to express it.

"But…" He looked up at the handmade sign draped across Renji's living room: _Happy End of the Semester!!!_ "What's all of this for?"

Beside him, Renji grinned, dropping an arm around his shoulders to squeeze him briefly. "It's for you, goofball." He frowned suddenly. "Fuck, you guys were supposed to put his name on it!!"

Ikkaku and Hisagi exchanged looks and shrugged.

Byakuya frowned, still confused, and not a little bit overwhelmed. He turned to Renji. "But… I don't understand. I didn't do anything."

Renji grinned again. "Like hell you didn't." When Byakuya continued to stare at him, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Come on. Who just turned in 25 pages on the Intertextual Effects of James Joyce's _Ulysses_? Who just graded his _last_ final fucking essay of the semester? Oh, and who just made the Dean's List for like the nine hundred and fifty-eighth time?"

Byakuya was for some reason finding it difficult to breathe. "That may be a slight exaggeration," he managed. He looked at the sign again, then at all the grinning people—his _friends_—and felt suddenly weak.

"I think I need to sit down," he said.

Renji blinked. "Huh?"

Rukia and Yoruichi hurried forward, each woman taking an arm and leading him to the couch. Byakuya sat down, frowning absently and attempting to brush them off. He looked at his sister. "Where is Ichigo?"

"He had to work." She smiled, wrapping her arms suddenly around one of his and squeezing it, the gesture surprising him. "I'm so happy for you."

Renji was still standing in the doorway, looking down at them, obviously confused. "What the hell's going on?" He was starting to look a little upset. Evidently, this wasn't exactly the reaction he'd been anticipating. "What'd I do this time?" Hisagi came over and patted him on the shoulder in a sympathizing way.

Yoruichi chuckled. "You didn't do anything wrong." She winked. "Don't worry. You'll learn. This is our Bya-boo being so happy he doesn't know what to do with himself."

Byakuya shot her an irritated look.

Rangiku suddenly clapped. "I know what he needs!"

Yumi grinned, a knowing little smirk on his face. "Oh, let _me_ take care of _that_." He got up and disappeared into the kitchen, where Byakuya could hear the sound of bottles and glass containers being pulled out of the cupboard.

Rangiku headed for the stereo instead. "How about a little music?" She flitted him a playful look before fiddling with a pink iPod, and a few seconds later, music filled the room. And not _their_ kind of music, not Renji's kind of music, but _real_ music: The Cure.

His favorite band. How did…?

He looked around, bemused, meeting Yoruichi's smug, smiling gaze. "I told him," she said, grinning.

At that point, Yumichika returned, bearing a party tray and tall glasses filled with something greenish and minty-looking.

"Attention!" he said, bending to set the tray on the coffee table. "This is a no beer zone!! Suffer yourselves to enjoy your mojitos or be advised to leave." He smirked at the disgruntled looks some of the others gave him before picking up a glass and handing it to Byakuya.

Yoruichi only raised a brow at him before chuckling and leaning forward to take a drink, Rukia doing the same. She smiled at her brother and he even smiled back. They were not an affectionate family, but Yoruichi would have known how much it meant to him to have her here today.

Ikkaku snorted. "No beer zone, my ass. Shuuhei, you brought that Guinness like you said you would?"

Hisagi nodded. "Yep. In the fridge." He glanced at Yumi, chuckling. "I mean, if it's okay with you, Babe." He paused. "uh, It _is_ okay…right?"

Yumi replied in a sing-song little voice, "Only in the kitchen!"

Ikkaku led the way into the other room, pausing to make a whipping motion with his right hand. Hisagi made a face and shoved him from behind, the drummer cackling loudly before continuing.

"HEY!!"

Everyone stopped talking and laughing to pause and look up at Renji—who, consequently, was still standing in the doorway.

"I mean, how about a little appreciation here?!"

Byakuya blinked up at him, a little surprised by the outburst. "Appreciation?"

"Yeah!" Renji scowled, leaning back a little, arms crossed over his chest. "Or least _notice_ me, for fuck's sake. I go through all this trouble—"

"All this trouble?"

Byakuya raised an eyebrow at him, resisting the urge smile at the uncertain look that flickered briefly in Renji's eyes now.

"Well… well, yeah. I mean…"

"I see. Well…" He paused, as if considering. "Simply consider it payback for all the nights I had to stay up late trying to decipher the essays you wrote for me this semester."

There was a collective "Oooo!!" throughout the living room, followed by a few knowing chuckles.

Renji blinked in surprise, but then seemed to relax finally, that old grin starting to quirk at his lips. "That was pretty low," he said, brown eyes twinkling.

Byakuya stood up, finally smiling a little as he approached him. "So was waiting all semester to finally ask me out."

Renji's eyes widened. "Why, you—!"

But Byakuya didn't give him a chance to continue, instead tilting his head up and leaning forward to kiss him, Renji's mouth still half-open, the surprised look on his face utterly priceless. Still somewhat shocked by his own forwardness, he flinched a little as the room erupted in laughing applause and whistles, which only grew as Renji suddenly took him into his arms and bent him backwards, forcing him to wrap his arms around the taller man's neck, his own eyes flying open in surprise.

When they pulled apart, Renji didn't pull immediately away, still holding him close, Byakuya's arms still wrapped loosely around his neck.

"You really can be an ass sometimes, you know," he murmured, nuzzling Byakuya's cheek with his face, sliding his nose gently against the older man's skin.

Byakuya smiled. "I know," he said, the simple reply probably surprising Renji. Their eyes met for a moment, then he pulled away, intending to return to the couch. But Renji caught his hand, pulling him gently back, folding an arm around him again.

"Dance with me," he said, mouth quirking into a smile, brown eyes sparkling. He started to sway to the music, Byakuya's body swaying with him by default. Byakuya opened his mouth to protest, but then Renji pulled him even closer, their bodies now pressed together, his chin on Renji's shoulder. He saw Hisagi reenter the room and, upon seeing them, immediately set down his beer and grab Yumichika. The slighter man protested about having a drink in his hand until Hisagi plucked it from his fingers and set it down, pulling him close again.

Byakuya relaxed in Renji's arms after awhile, even closing his eyes briefly as the music shifted to some nostalgic-sounding Damien Rice song he'd scoffed at until recently. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Rukia on the phone, talking softly, a small smile on her face. Yoruichi was sitting beside her, legs crossed, sipping a mojito and smirking contentedly when their gazes met. He let his eyes slide closed again, shivering ever so slightly at the feel of Renji's lips brushing against his neck.

"Renji," he said, speaking softly into the other man's ear.

"Mmm."

He tilted his head, kissing him there, feeling the cold flesh against his lips. "Thank you."

Renji's only response was to tighten his arms around him, his cheek nuzzling Byakuya's hair. And Byakuya wondered, not for the first time, why this was even happening to him. Why someone like Renji had singled _him_ out, over all the other men around him (or even women, as the case may be). Why, when his life had finally become too empty for words, so that he could not even articulate how he felt, _this_ had finally happened. Each morning, he expected to wake up and realize the end of what was only a dream, but he hadn't—yet.

He wasn't sure what would finally solidify this for him—what would make it real. He only know that when Renji held him close like this it _was_ real. And he had, for the moment, nothing else in the world to worry about.


	10. Chapter 10

Byakuya made himself stop after the third drink, however reluctantly. Yumichika definitely knew what he was doing. Either that or Renji had some exceptionally high quality vodka in his cabinet.

He leaned into the younger man's semi-embrace, Renji's arm around his shoulders as usual, both of them sitting on the couch. Hisagi and Yumi were dancing again, moving slowly across the carpeted living room floor. Occasionally, Hisagi would start to lower his hand a bit, resulting in a playful smack to the arm. There was a murmured admonishment, then a brief exchange of playful, tipsy kisses, Hisagi grinning like a mischievous little boy.

Byakuya watched them, almost thoughtfully. "They're in love, aren't they?" he said quietly.

"Yeah." He felt Renji shift a little, chuckling softly. "Lucky bastards, huh?"

Byakuya smiled, feeling Renji's fingers start to stroke lightly down his arm, almost as if he weren't really thinking about it. "Yes. I suppose."

"Hey, boo."

He looked up at Yoruichi, his old friend smiling down at him, her bag in hand. "We're gonna take off, okay?"

Rukia stood behind her, smiling, waving a little when he looked up.

He nodded.

"Call me tomorrow," Yoruichi said, making it sound like a command. She winked at Renji, then turned to link her arm through Rukia's, the two women heading out together, Rukia pausing at the door to wave one more time. Byakuya even waved back, just one brief wave of his hand.

Renji shifted again, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table. "Your sister's nice."

Byakuya raised a brow at that, even as he settled against him again, closing his eyes. "Mm."

"We went to school together, ya know. Didn't realize it until I saw her earlier today."

Byakuya started, almost sitting up in surprise. He would have, but Renji's arm had tightened around him, holding him close. "Oh?"

Renji chuckled. "Is that a good "oh" or a bad one?"

Byakuya frowned. "I don't know. Neither." He sighed a little, wondering why he always felt like he had to explain himself to Renji. "It just startled me."

"A-huh. You thought I was older? Younger?"

Byakuya felt his face warm. How Renji could guess his thoughts after knowing him for less than a month now was beyond him.

"I was never overly concerned," he finally admitted. "I saw your classification on the midterm grade reports."

Renji laughed softly. "Sneaky. You check all your students like that or just the hot redheads?"

Byakuya tsked.

"Hey, man."

He opened his eyes, staring up at Hisagi, who had his arm around a yawning Yumichika. "We're heading out."

Renji nodded. "Later. Thanks for coming, guys."

Yumi smiled. "You want help cleaning up?"

Renji grinned. "Nah."

The couple bid their good-byes then and paused to get their coats, waving one last time before leaving.

The apartment was quiet now except for the soft sound of the music still playing. Ikkaku and Rangiku had already left, Rangiku leaving her iPod behind, threatening dire consequences if anything were to happen to it. The room seemed so deserted now, half-empty glasses and bottles scattered about on random pieces of furniture. The sign was still hanging, albeit barely, one side having come untaped at some point.

Byakuya had to suddenly look away from it, an unexpected tightness entering his throat.

Renji noticed, felt him stiffen probably. He looked down at him, brows knit in concern. "Hey." Byakuya closed his eyes, feeling warm lips press lightly against his forehead. "Everything okay?"

"Yes," he said, and he smiled, the expression feeling desperate, even dangerous. He took a deep breath, almost a gasp, then laughed, a short, strangled sound deep in his throat. "I just… it's so hard to take in. All of it. I can't believe it."

"Believe what?" Another kiss, this one to the top of his head, fingers stroking his arm again.

"All of it," he repeated. He sighed again, felt himself finally relax again. "Everything. The end of the semester. This." He smiled a little. "You."

He opened his eyes, staring up into Renji's before straightening a little. Renji sort of frowned and reached up with his free hand to stroke his cheek, Byakuya feeling himself flush beneath the gentle touch, despite himself.

"Yeah." He smiled, but it was almost contrite, making Byakuya frown now. "Hey. Wanted to tell you, about what I said earlier. You know… I don't really think you're an ass. I didn't really mean it."

Byakuya blinked, surprised. It was rare for Renji to apologize to him. "Oh, yes you did," he finally said. "Or you should have." He sighed. "Trust me. I know how I am."

Renji made a face, almost as if he were disappointed in him. "Why do you do that?"

Byakuya frowned. "Do what?"

"Put yourself down like that." He seemed almost annoyed. "I mean, do you even know what a fantastic person you are? You work your ass off on just about everything you put your mind to. Your smart, capable, determined. A good brother, a good friend." He gave him a look, almost teasing, daring Byakuya to stop him. "Not to mention the best damn boyfriend a guy could have, if you ask me."

Byakuya felt his heart turn over in his chest at those words.

His expression must have reflected what he felt for once because Renji immediately grinned, brown eyes twinkling a little. "That's okay, right? I mean, that's what we're doing, ain't it?"

"Isn't it," he corrected automatically.

Renji just chuckled. "Don't change the subject." He gave him a suddenly stern look. "Hey. You haven't been going around kissin' on other boys behind my back, have you?"

Byakuya's mouth fell open. "Of course not!"

He grinned, lips pursed together as if he were trying to hold it back. "Good. Just the reaction I was looking for."

That earned him a particularly disparaging look.

"Hey," he continued, his face suddenly serious, his eyes warm. "How come you always close your eyes when I kiss you?"

"Do I do that?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "It's funny. Every time I kiss you, it's like I get this little funny feeling, you know? Like I'm all depressed, cause I know it's not gonna last. Kinda stupid, huh?"

Byakuya smiled back, surprising himself. "No. Not really."

"Yeah?" Renji's smile widened. He leaned in a little, holding Byakuya's eyes with his own. "Well, okay. How about this. What if I was to go ahead and kiss you right now." And he did, their lips just brushing together, really, Byakuya feeling something inside him clench in anticipation. "Only this time I don't have to stop. Least not right away, anyway." Another kiss, this one deeper, but not pushing, evidently waiting for a response. "Would that be okay?"

Byakuya's response was almost immediate. He wrapped his arms around Renji, pulling him closer, his own body's reaction almost startling him. Renji needed no further answer, pushing him down back against the couch even as he deepened the kiss, this one slow and passionate, building in intensity.

"Byakuya," he murmured, slipping his hand under the older man's shirt, calloused fingertips sliding over warm, smooth skin.

Hearing his name on the other man's lips caused a heat to flush over Byakuya's body, making him moan softly in response. Renji was on top of him now, pressing him down into the soft, worn cushions of the couch, their trapped arousals nudging against one another, making them both moan now. When he opened his eyes, Renji was staring down at him, his eyes darkened with desire, face slightly flushed.

"You're sure?" he asked, his voice now a bit husky.

Byakuya nodded. "Yes," he replied, feeling his heart hammering in his chest.

Renji surprised him then by suddenly smiling. "Okay. Hold on then."

Byakuya blinked. "What?"

His arms tightened instinctively when Renji suddenly sat up, grinning as he positioned Byakuya's legs around his waist. He stood then, lifting Byakuya up with him, linking his hands under the older man's hips, supporting him as he carried him into the next room.

Byakuya turned his head, as if he didn't know where they were going. "Why is it," he managed, doing his best to ignore the feel of Renji's hands on his ass, "that your idea of romance always involves the loss of my ability to use my legs?"

Renji chuckled, the sound huskier than usual, his face still slightly flushed. "Did I already say I was sorry for calling you an ass?"

"Yes, you did."

"Damn."

He swallowed a yelp then as he was rather unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. He bounced a little, then hastily propped himself up on his elbows, almost scooting back when he saw the rather predatory smirk Renji was regarding him with.

He frowned. "Are you about to make love to me or ravish me?"

"Don't be such a girl," Renji replied, reaching back in one, smooth motion to pull his shirt off before kneeling on the bed. "I'm going to fuck you."

Byakuya's eyes widened, but he couldn't at the moment fashion a response because a) he couldn't stop staring at Renji's naked chest, and b) Renji was now crawling towards him, grinning—no _leering_ down at him, legs straddling Byakuya's, hands planted on either side of his shoulders.

"That okay with you, Teach?" he asked, lowering himself, Byakuya giving a sharp intake of breath as their bodies met.

"Yes," he said, swallowing again, feeling his own chest start to rise and fall a bit faster.

"Come again?"

"Yes!" he repeated, somewhat gasping the word out as Renji thrust playfully, grinding their hips briefly against one another. He gave him an almost reproachful look then, and for some reason Renji laughed, the heat of the moment fading for a bit as he buried his face in Byakuya's hair, muffling the sound.

"Is everything a game for you?" Byakuya asked, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around the younger man, loving the feel of warm skin beneath his hands.

Renji chuckled. "You make it that way." He turned his head a little to start pressing teasing little kisses to Byakuya's neck, Byakuya sighing and closing his eyes, arching his head back to give the younger man better access to his throat. He felt Renji's hands slide over his chest, then start to hastily but deftly undo the buttons of his shit, his lips starting to trail down as the garment was removed.

Byakuya hissed suddenly, Renji's mouth hovering over one exposed nipple, gently worrying the tiny nub between his teeth before licking it better again. At the same time, one hand continued to trail down, over his belly and below his belt, cupping him teasingly through his pants.

He gasped. "Wait…" Ignoring the curious look on Renji's upturned face, he reached up and with shaking fingers managed to undo the tie behind the younger man's head, freeing his hair, soft red strands cascading over his shoulders to tickle Byakuya's chest.

A grin quirked at the corners of Renji's mouth. "Pervy."

Byakuya closed his eyes again, lying back, running his fingers through that long, red hair. "Like you can talk…"

Renji chuckled, the sound warm and amused, his breath puffing against Byakuya's exposed skin. A moment later, Byakuya sucked in a breath, feeling himself being freed from his pants and underwear, Renji wasting no time in covering him with his mouth. He panted, fisting handfuls of red hair, barely resisting the urge to thrust up into that moist heat.

"Renji," he murmured, starting to writhe on the bed, even whimpering slightly. He was barely aware then of his legs being nudged open, a warm hand slipping under to caress him, then the surprising sensation of a cool, oil-slick finger rubbing at his entrance before slipping in to stretch him.

"You… planned this… didn't you?" he breathed, a little incensed, despite everything. Either that or Renji must make a habit of carrying lube in his pocket wherever he went.

He shuddered as Renji released him from his mouth, moving up to kiss him again, murmuring against his lips: "Damn straight I planned it. Since the day I first saw you."

Byakuya didn't have a chance to respond because Renji's questing fingers finally found _that_ spot inside him, making him suddenly cry out, his body arching slightly with pleasure. Suddenly, he was clinging to the redhead, fingers digging into his shoulders, body shuddering beneath his. Renji removed his fingers to position Byakuya's legs for him, sliding them over his shoulders before carefully easing into him, panting lightly by the time he was fully sheathed.

"Tell me… you're not… a virgin," he managed, it obviously taking all his willpower not to start thrusting immediately into the tight heat enveloping his cock.

Byakuya stared up at him, reaching up to fist red hair, tightening his legs around the younger man's back. "Are _you_?" He hissed and pulled down on the hair in his hands, kissing Renji bruisingly, then murmuring against his lips. "Just hurry up and fuck me!"

Renji didn't need to be told twice.

Despite Byakuya's urging, they started slowly, only picking up speed as they found their rhythm together, their bodies starting to mist with sweat, Renji's long hair sticking to both of them. Byakuya moaned, sliding his palms now over the younger man's back, each thrust causing a spark of pleasure to shudder through him. Above him, Renji panted, open-mouthed, eyes glazed with desire, strong arms propping him up over the slighter man beneath him.

Byakuya writhed on the bed, eyes sliding closed, body starting to arch. "Renji…" he murmured, gasping, trying to warn him that he was close. But suddenly he was coming, his body stiffening with pleasure, Renji's hoarse shout mingling with his own moans before he finally relaxed.

After a while, Renji managed to roll off of him, the sudden cold air against his chest almost shocking. He had only a moment to stare dazedly up at the ceiling before he was pulled into the younger man's arms, his head automatically nestling in the crook between Renji's neck and shoulder.

They lay like that for some time, until their breathing had slowed and their thoughts could catch up with their bodies. Byakuya opened his eyes, wondering idly if Renji was asleep now. He watched the slow rise and fall of the other man's chest, his eyes drawn even in the semi-darkness to the curving lines of the tattoo trekking across the skin there. He reached out to trace it, fingers passing gently over one jagged mark, smiling slightly when another hand reached out to rest over his own, his palm now pressed to Renji's chest, the soft rhythmic beating of his heart fluttering against Byakuya's palm.

Renji's quiet voice broke the silence then, the inevitable question making his smile falter ever so slightly.

"So what happened? Five years ago, I mean."

Byakuya didn't immediately answer, causing Renji to press a kiss to his forehead, almost apologetically. But he didn't withdraw the question.

"It was nothing," he finally said. "I acted very foolishly."

"You were in love."

It was something between a question and a statement, but he didn't feel the need to respond to it, Renji evidently supposing his silence was answer enough.

He closed his eyes, feeling the hand over his own squeeze slightly, their fingers linking together. "It was a long time ago," he finally added. "I hardly even think about it anymore. It has nothing to do with who I am now."

"Yeah?"

Again, he didn't answer, a subtle disappointment washing over him, sensing the afterglow of their lovemaking somehow soiled by his own reticence.

"Five years ago." Renji sounded more curious now, almost playful. "So you would've been… what, 22, 23?"

Byakuya frowned at the question, a little confused by the sudden change in conversation. "23," he finally said, almost reluctantly.

Renji nodded thoughtfully, red hair on the pillow shifting, sliding against Byakuya's cheek. "Hm."

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound surprised."

"Nope." A pause, then a low chuckle, the sound making Byakuya frown again for some reason. "Okay. So I rifled through your pockets."

His eyes shot _wide_ open now, the arm around him the only thing preventing him from sitting up. "You _what_?"

"Yeah. You remember that first time I brought you here. You were so toasted. I carried you in here and tried to make you comfortable. You know, took your shoes off, emptied your pockets…"

"Emptied my pockets?"

"Well yeah. Didn't wanna find myself accidentally dating some 30-year-old geezer."

"I see." He settled back down, albeit grudgingly. "You do realize that in two years—

"Yeah, yeah. Shut yer trap, Einstein." Another low chuckle. "I can count."

There was a long silence between them then, during which he wondered again if Renji had fallen asleep. He was having difficulty keeping his own eyes open, and Renji's body beside his own was so warm, and comforting…

"Well?"

He sighed, pulling himself back fully into wakefulness. "Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to ask me the same thing?"

He frowned. Perhaps a part of him didn't particularly wish to know Renji's actual age. But he knew he wasn't a freshman or a sophomore, so unless he were some sort of child prodigy and had entered university at an early age… And this _was_, after all, Renji, so the chances of _that_ happening, well…

"Hey." He felt a finger poke his cheek gently. "Still waiting here."

He frowned, reaching up to brush the finger away, but only ended up holding Renji's hand, wrapping his arm around him again. "I'm just trying to think of the right way to ask it."

"22"

He blinked. "22?"

"Yep."

That wasn't so bad.

"Still rather young," he finally said.

Renji grinned. "Oh yeah?" 

"Scandalously so."

Renji chuckled again. "You're such a rule-breaker."

That earned him a swat to the chest.

After that, they both quieted down again, everything quiet except for the street sounds coming from the other side of the closed window, Rangiku's iPod now silenced. He felt himself finally drifting off, but then Renji shook his shoulder gently and encouraged him to shift a little so he could pull the sheets over them. Once covered, he snuggled up beside Renji again, quite unabashedly cuddling, resting his head once again in the crook of the younger man's neck, his chin on his shoulder. He was out in a matter of minutes, Renji's quiet breathing and comforting presence lulling him to sleep.

And he slept deeply, all of the usual stresses and concern for the future that kept him awake at night for the moment silenced. It was a momentary peace that he was more than willing to embrace.


	11. Chapter 11

So it had finally happened.

You know. The morning when he was supposed to wake up and grin giddily at the ceiling, maybe give a silent, self-congratulatory fist pump.

Funny. But somehow all he really felt like doing was lying here in bed, his arm around the man sleeping soundly beside him.

They all told him he was crazy. It could never happen, it's like some cheesy plot in a movie. (A gay movie, Ikkaku had pointed out. Hisagi had punched him in the gut.) And, to be honest, he'd almost agreed. There was no way this would ever work. No way a loser like him could ever attract the attention of someone like Kuchiki Byakuya.

Not that he ever doubted Byakuya wasn't straight. The girls in class didn't seem to get it; they wore tight shirts with little hearts and cute sayings printed across their breasts, then looked confused when he wouldn't stare. No, he was gay, all right. The problem was, he'd never really stared at _anyone_. Definitely not Renji.

If he only knew how long Renji had waited, hemming and hawing, teased and goaded by his so-called friends. Day after day, he sat in class, pretending to take notes while gazing down at the impassive object of his affections. A couple times, he even thought to move closer, so he'd be right in front of him, but that didn't work either. He felt stupid and moved back to his old spot a few days later, a little embarrassed and a lot dejected.

And then he'd finally just done it. He asked the fucker out. Couldn't hurt, could it?

And suddenly, he was a part of his life.

He found that not having Kuchiki Byakuya in his life was no more acceptable than not having oxygen or food. He rediscovered this every time they were apart, and he agonized over the thought that Byakuya didn't feel the same way about him. Miraculously, whenever they were together, he became this entirely different person. He exuded confidence, he was funny, he was sexy—well, more than usual. And Byakuya, in turn, learned to smile.

Every now and then, he even laughed.

So now, here he was. In bed, the morning after. It was supposed to be his moment of triumph, the proof of his success. Hell, he'd sure as fuck _waited_ long enough. Professor Kuchiki, he'd learned, wasn't just shy. He was a fucking ice princess. It made Renji want to hunt down the sick fuck who'd done this to him—whatever "this" was—and punch him until his fucking head rolled right off his fucking shoulders. And then he'd beat the living shit out of each and every one of his relatives, too, just for good measure.

Beside him, Byakuya sighed, a little frown forming, as if he could hear Renji's thoughts. He smiled down at him, reaching out with one finger to smooth away the line etched between his brows before stroking gently down the bridge of his nose. Well, he guessed he had a choice now. He could either head to the kitchen and bring him back breakfast in bed (okay, fine, fuck it—he was a romantic), or he could slip under the covers and suck him off until he woke up, then proceed to fuck him good morning.

Yeah. Definitely option 2.

FINIS.


End file.
